Countless are the bones
beneath our feet,
each sacrifice of those
who’ve gone before
gifts to the newly born.
Present on moonlit nights,
in fluttering trees,
and the echo of owls,
looking on with tender care
as we find our way
through the living dark.
photograph by Sandy Brown Jensen
Reading of “Countless are the Bones” with music by Samuel Barber
So true Don.
Makes me proud to be alive continuing the work of the generations before.
This is why we are here.
On this day I think upon the countless mothers who have gone before to make all the rest possible
Such a beautiful prayer, thank you, Don.
Don…what a tribute to our ancestors!
Don, not just in fluttering trees and echoing owls. Your poem is a wonderful reminder. Thank you. – Love, Tom & Nancy
What is in a bone…your poem is a prayer of honor…humbling awareness of the flow of life in and out of Being
Beautiful, Don. Your words are accompanied perfectly by Samuel Barber’s music. Thank you.
Bones upon bones provides the bedrock for our grateful living……….. I am because we are. So lovely, Don!
Thank you Don, we each have an inheritance of both light and dark from our ancestors, as you so pointiantly articulate in your book “The Irish Girl”. If we’re open to it, there is very specific unfinished work that falls in our lap from our ancestors, and also some precious gifts.
There’s a great watch on Youtube about an Irish girl:-
Margaret Gallagher, My Thatched Cottage. You might appreciate it Don.